Ted Whitley:
Excuse my appearance, I arrive by the last thunderbolt; a trifle singed as I came through the ether. My eyes are full of stardust.
Linda Turner:
What do you want, asshole?
Ted Whitley:
I want you to go out with me.
Linda Turner:
Where do you fucking get off? Get out of here!
Ted Whitley:
Will you go out with me?
Linda Turner:
No! I will not go out with you!
Ted Whitley:
[places a chainsaw on the table]
I'm going to ask you one more time and, if the answer is no again, I'm gonna start this thing and begin cutting my fingers off.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 09:11
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